Reweaving the Tapestry
by Rose of Zakarisz
Summary: Starts during 'Damage' when Mitchell corners Annie while high on blood and goes from there. What would have happened if George had not come home when he did. "I kissed you once, do you remember?" (Formerly titled: How to Drain your Vampire)
1. Chapter 1

Recognizable dialogue has been taken from the episode(s). The scenes will weave in and out of cannon.

* * *

We don't accomplish anything in this world alone... and whatever happens is the result of the whole tapestry of one's life and all the weavings of individual threads form one to another that creates something.

-Sandra Day O'Connor

* * *

Annie found Mitchell in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his head down. "Hey." He looked to be dealing with a massive hangover and she wondered if he would prefer tea or coffee to help get him through it.

He raised his head to look at her. She could see the recognition in his eyes but there was no warmth behind his gaze.

"It's the ghost." He had an almost-smile on his face, as if he were telling a familiar inside joke.

Annie was not sure what to say to that and so she gave a soft chuckle and ignored it. "Did you have a friend stay over?"

He, in turn, ignored her question. "I kissed you once, do you remember?"

Whatever strange game he was playing at was beginning to worry Annie. "Yeah. Sort of." She had never seen Mitchell hung over before. Perhaps he avoided drinking to excess to avoid having to remember conversations like this one later. She shifted in place, not sure if she should go or stay.

"Ya know, sometimes I can hear you moving about in a different room." He stood and circled around the table, releasing a long breath. His movements had always been graceful, but there was something to them now that sang of a predator. "I just think about your body, under those clothes. I think about your skin." He leaned back against the table, facing her and a shiver ran through her intangible body. An echo of an instinct that she had not had enough of in life.

"What? Mitchell stop it, shut up." She pulled her cardigan closed without thinking, holding it close to her body like a shield.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" He stood and drew closer to her. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Annie was not sure what to do. The man in front of her was not her Mitchell. She turned and slipped through the beaded curtain into the other room.

They were the only two in the house and she had no idea when or if George would be back. The silhouette of Mitchell lingered in the doorway for a moment before following her through.

"Don't tell me you've never thought about it." His voice was taunting and Annie continued to back away until she ran out of room.

If she had been thinking clearly, she could have rent-a-ghosted away, like she had with Tully. But this was not Tully, this was Mitchell, and something was very, very wrong with him.

"Whatever's happened, whatever you've taken, or been done to you, I can help you." His slow pursuit soon caught up with her and she found herself trapped between his body and the wall, his arms caging her in. "Mitchell, please. Stop."

Something in her voice must have pierced the haze that he had been trapped in.

Her name fell from his lips, more a question than an acknowledgement and he stepped back from her, dropping his arms.

She slipped passed his trembling form, but could not make herself flee. He was in trouble and he needed her.

"Tell me what's happened." Her voice did not waver and for that she was grateful.

Mitchell fisted both of his hands in his hair and did not turn to look at her. "You need to leave. Now."

There was fear coursing through Annie, but she could not tell if it was for herself or for him. What she did know was that she could never abandon him, not like this.

He cast her a look over his shoulder, "Annie, please," and then sank to his knees on the floor.

She may have been able to keep the her voice from shaking, but she could not keep her hand steady as she reached out to touch his shoulder.

His head whipped up, too fast to be natural, and she watched his eyes flash black for a moment.

And she knew. She knew it was not alcohol, or drugs that he was strung out on.

She tried to pull her hand back, not sure if she could stomach the thought of her friend as a killer. Yes, he was a vampire. Yes, he had lived for almost a century, and in that time he had done vampire-y things. Somehow, she had always been able to compartmentalize that into Mitchell-of-the-past who was separate from Mitchell-her-friend. To see the two together was more than shocking, it was distressing and she did not know how to deal with that.

Before she could pull away completely, her wrist was caught in an unforgiving grip. "You want to help me?" The words were strained and seemed to be forced from him. "No one can help me."

He used his hold on her wrist to push her away and Annie went stumbling back to land on the floor. She was free. If ever she was to escape, it would be now. She watched him for a moment more before standing again.

Vampire or not, killer or not, he was her responsibility. If she turned her back on him and fled, if he went out into the world again to feed, it would be her fault for letting him go. She ignored the part of her that hurt to see him in pain, that heard the plea for help in his words. Whatever the reason, she had already made her decision, and there was nothing harder to change than Annie's mind once it had been made up.

She walked to him slowly, aware of how similar he was to a wounded animal in that moment and not wanting to frighten him. He had bent double where he was sitting, his head now resting on the ground with his hands in his hair again, perhaps trying to block out the world. She knelt beside him and leaned forward to wrap her arms around him.

He spasmed at the contact, probably having expected her to have left, but he did not pull away. She could have cried when he moved one hand to tangle their fingers together.

She did not know how long they would have before his darker side resurfaced again.

Annie sat up and pulled him with her. He would not meet her eye but she could see that his were red and puffy. She helped him to stand and together they struggled their way up the stairs. He hesitated at the top and she wondered if he was avoiding his room. Regardless, that was not her destination.

He let her lead him to George's old room, and she could feel his body tense up when he understood why she had brought him there. The cage stood, alone and empty, in the middle of the space.

Annie had no idea what was involved in detoxing a vampire, or how long it would take, but the one thing she was sure of was that he could not be allowed to leave the house. She only needed to convince him to step into the cage.

She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, too afraid to face him dead on. "I'll stay with you. I promise." She would never be able to force him in against his will. He would have to want to enter. "I'll bring you anything you need. You won't have to do this alone."

His body was shaking. She could feel it where her arm was wrapped around his middle. They stood staring at the bars in silence.

Just as Annie was beginning to fear that he would turn and leave the room, Mitchell staggered forward and threw himself into the cage.

She fixed the lock before he could change his mind and then joined him on the other side.

"The lock won't hold me in here when I try to get out." He sounded as exhausted as he looked. Now that she was paying attention, she could see the bags under his eyes, the paleness of his already pale skin.

"We'll figure something out before then." She would cement the doors and windows if she had to. There was nothing that she would not do for the people that she cared about, even when it came to protecting them from themselves.

"What about the full moon?" It was a comfort to hear her friend back in that familiar voice.

"George has changed in the woods before." They had time on that one as well. "I'll explain it to him. He'll understand."

They sat in silence for a bit before Mitchell spoke up again, his tone bordering on a tease. "You never did answer my question before. About us kissing."

She did not answer him then either, only smiled and leaned to rest her head against his shoulder, pressing her lips to the spot before she settled in for the long haul ahead of them.


	2. Chapter 2

I hadn't planned to continue this story, but specific scenes kept haunting me until I wrote them. I have one more chapter to add to this for now. I'm not sure how far I'll take it.

* * *

The sound of large feet pounding up the stairs told Annie that George had returned. When the door flew open, he made it all of three steps inside before the sight of her and Mitchell in the cage registered.

He cocked his head to the side and almost succeeded in holding in a laugh. "What are you doing?"

Mitchell groaned as he sat up from his prone position in the cage. "Oh no, not him again. I thought he moved out." His arms waved in George's direction and the smile on his face was anything but comforting. "He's always fucking here."

"Oh God, are you drunk?" George rolled his eyes and moved to pull a duffle from under his bed. "I hate it when you're drunk."

Annie popped from the cage to sit on the mattress. "Thank God you're here. I need your help."  
George spared her only a moment as he began to throw random clothing into the bag. "What? No, I can't. That's what I came to tell you guys." He paused his movements and straightened to face both of his friends. "I'm going to that place with Nina, and the priest, and Professor Jaggat."

Annie wrung her hands in agitation. Now was not the time for George to be absent. "Can't it wait? This is kind of important."

"Good. Piss off." Mitchell had stood and moved to grip the bars of the cage. "'Cause I'm really getting sick of your dog hair in my clothes."

"Mitchell." George's reprimand was more of a confused squeak than a scold.

The vampire's eyes seemed to clear for a moment and his hands released the bars as if they burned him. He looked as if he was about to speak, but shook his head instead and turned away to curl up in the opposite corner of the cage.

George turned to Annie as the seriousness of the situation began to sink in. "What's going on."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." She moved to the side of the cage where a pad of paper and a colored pen had been laying. She could feel Mitchell's eyes on her as she bent to retrieve the items. His gaze was tormented, and she was not sure which was worse; the pained expression that showed the Mitchell she knew was still in there or the smirking leer of the Mitchell who frightened her.

She rose and handed the pad to George. "I have a list. I need you to go round to the shop for me."

His eyes scanned the page. "Rope, chain, a tarp, floor anchors, arm cuffs?" He sent her a look that questioned her sanity better than any words could. "Should I just pop round to the Tesco? Are you mental?"

She huffed at his melodrama. "Look, I just wrote the list. It was Mitchell's idea." She glanced at the cage from the corner of her eye. "When he was more Mitchell-y." She focused again on the man in front of her. "Please, George. He said the cage won't hold him."

George looked down at the paper again before taking in the huddled figure of Mitchell. "What's happened?"

"Nothing." Annie shivered at the sound of Mitchell's voice. Bad-Mitchell was back all ready. The switches would have given her whiplash if she were still alive. "It's all good Georgie. It's all good."

For the first time since her death Annie was grateful to be a ghost. As much as this new Mitchell scared her, at least he could not hurt her. She would like to think that even if she had a pulse, her friend would not knowingly cause her harm, but there was a look in his eye, the look that he had given her as he had talked about her skin, that had her believing that he was fantasizing about that very thing.

She did not wait for either of them to respond again. Annie turned George towards the door and pushed him out of the room. "Just go. Please. And hurry back." She cast a look over her shoulder before continuing in a whisper. "I don't like being alone with him when he's like this."

George hesitated a moment more before nodding and heading down the stairs.

Annie took a deep breath before returning to the cage. She had promised Mitchell that he would not be alone and she aimed to keep that promise, no matter what. He was leering at her again and she pulled her cardigan around her once more. Too bad she hadn't died outside in the winter. A parka would have come in handy just then. She was not sure how long she would have to put up with Bad-Mitchell, but she would be glad to see him gone once and for all.

* * *

It had taken George a bit longer than Annie would have liked, he was sure, for him to find all of the items on the list. Bags in hand, he rounded the corner onto Henry Street and slowed to a stop.

"Nina." The name was past his lips before he could stop himself.

She and the priest were standing before his front door, ostensibly waiting for their knock to be answered. Both turned to look at him when he spoke, but it was Nina that answered.

"You said you were coming and then never showed." She closed the distance between them and George was grateful when the priest did not move to follow.

"Something's come up." He had spoken in a whisper but a crash from inside the house caused the effort to be irrelevant.

"What was that?"  
George ignored Nina's question and pushed past her to block the door when Father Kemp raised a hand for the door knob. Using his body as a barrier, George struck a ridiculous pose in his attempt to act casual. He ignored the door opening behind him and the cold hands that took the bags from his grip. In a matter of seconds the door was closed again, with him now standing at odd angles, now with empty hands. Nina was looking at him with a mixture of bewilderment and irritation. At least she had been able to see Annie.

George snuck a look at the priest to find raised eyebrows and a concerned expression. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"

There was only time for George to open his mouth before another crash sounded from within. "Nope." He did his best to sound nonchalant, but the word came out too high pitched.

Having apparently had enough, Nina pushed past George, ducking under his arm to get to the door knob and into the house. He could only watch over his shoulder as she made her way to the stairs, torn between standing guard against one intruder and going after the one that had gotten past his defenses.

He motioned for the priest to stay where he was and turned to call for Annie. He had not made it to past the bottom step before Annie appeared at the top, ushering them both back down.

She kept up a steady stream of commentary as she bustled both werewolves back to the main floor and George was annoyed to see that Kemp had not waited outside as he had been instructed.

"What is going on?" Nina cast her eyes to the stairs again but did not try to get past Annie. George had a moment to be affronted by that.

"Oh, you know. A bit of redecorating gone wrong." Annie's laugh was as forced as her smile.

When Nina looked away Annie began mouthing to George to get rid of their guests. He tried to argue back, but had the unfair disadvantage of being seen by both of their visitors.

"It was so lovely of you to come and check in on me, but as you can clearly see that I am fine, I'm sure you have more pressing matters to attend to." He began to herd Nina and the priest towards the door.

Nina stopped him with a pained look. "Have you changed your mind?"

George paused in his actions, taking both of her hands in his. "Not at all." There was a thump from above them and he closed his eyes to pray for patience. Opening them again he continued. "I will be there. Tomorrow, or the next day, I'm not sure yet. But I promise you; I will be there."

She stared at him for a moment more before nodding and moving towards the door on her own.

Annie was still standing guard in front of the stairs and fidgeting with her hands when George finally closed the door, leaning his back against it for support.

"How about some tea?" He watched as Annie headed for the kitchen with disbelieving eyes.

"What the hell was that?" His question was half a yell and half a whisper. "What is he doing up there?"

He watched as Annie bustled around the kitchen, filling the kettle, setting out mugs, being Annie.

She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "I thought it would be good for him to have something to eat, maybe a bit of tea." The look she sent over her shoulder was one of remorse. "I'll clean the mess, no worries."

A squeak escaped him before he could stop it and then he was bolting up the stairs and to his room. There were shards of porcelain and spatters of food on the wall and carpet next to the door. The lamp from his bedside table had been pulled from the wall and the shattered remnants of it now lay in his bed. The curtains were still on the window and George supposed that he should be grateful for that, but he could not help the blustering outrage that fought to come out. Only, he could not find the words and ended up starting and stopping the same thought over and over again.

Annie slipped into the room behind him settling a warm mug into his hands and placing the other out of reach of the occupant in the cage.

"Now." Her voice was that of a parent speaking to an unruly child. "If you're good I'll let you have the tea." She waited until Mitchell was looking at her before continuing. "If you can keep from causing a mess, I'll think about brining you a coffee. But I'm not scrubbing that out of the carpet if I don't have to." She added a nod at the end for emphasis.

Mitchell was sitting against the far side of the cage still, his hair hanging down into his face. He did not answer Annie, did not even look at her. George held the vampires gaze and could feel himself being weighed. He tilted his head and returned the gesture. What were the odds that they could get him from the cage and into the chair if he put up a fight? Not good. But Mitchell would not have been in the cage at all if some part of him had not wanted to be, or so Annie had said.

George broke the stare between them to consider the bags on the ground and ignored Mitchell's snort of amusement at having won their game. "Could we maybe set him up in his own room?" He addressed this to Annie. "I'd rather like to have my privacy back, thank you very much."

That seemed to get a reaction out of Mitchell, one unlike they had seen since he had fallen off of the wagon. The vampire was up and at the bars in an instant.

"Don't go in there." Mitchell's eyes held more of a plea than his tone had and George had to wonder at what they would find.

Annie had apparently had the same thought. She was gone in a blink and back in two, looking pale and sick.

"Annie?" George moved over to her, afraid that she looked faint. The thought passed through his mind to question if ghosts could faint, but he shook it off and led her to the chair. She sank into it without a word.

Mitchell moved back to his spot across the cage and curled into himself. Neither one would look at the other.

George stood to find out what neither was willing to tell him but Annie's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Stay here." Her tone was firm and brooked no argument. She left by way of the door this time and George found himself unsure of what to do with himself. He took Annie's seat in the cushioned chair and drummed his fingers as he waited. When she finally returned it was with a look harder than any he had ever seen her wear before.

Annie knelt in front of the door to the cage and fixed her gaze on Mitchell. "I've cooked and cleaned and looked after you both, and I've loved every minute of it." When she paused, Mitchell tilted his head up barely, enough that he could see her face. She pointed behind her, towards the hall. "That, will never happen again." Her tone brooked no argument. "Are we clear?"

She paused again and waited for Mitchell to nod and George was shocked to see tears and shame in the other man's eyes. George had never seen his flatmates like this before and could only sit back and watch as the scene unfolded.

"Now; you're going to get up, and we're going to let you out, and your going to help George set all this up." At that she motioned to the bags still laying on the floor.

It was not until Annie reached for the lock that George was snapped out of his stupor. "Wait a minute." He grabbed her by the arm to stop her from opening the lock. "We can't just let him out. What if he's lying?"

They both turned to look at Mitchell where he had risen to stand in the back of the cage. He looked haggard, beaten.

"Because this is his first test on his road to redemption." At her words Mitchell raised his head a little higher, drawing his shoulders back. He still would not meet their eyes but he gave a small nod.

For all of her strong talk, Annie's hands still trembled as she reached to unlock the cage.


	3. Chapter 3

Three days had passed and Mitchell had swayed from begging forgiveness to cursing her existence so many times it was becoming a bit boring. George had left that for the facility that morning and Annie was not sure if he would ever see her again. She had wanted to go with him, had planned to go with him, but now was not the right time to move on. In those moments when Mitchell was himself, when he looked at her and saw a friend and she could see the self-loathing in his eyes, she knew that she was making the right decision. When he was settled, when he was strong enough to be the man that he wanted to be, then she could think of letting go again.

This was clearly not one of those times.

"Do you know why they call me Big Bad John?" Mitchell was strapped to a chair in the middle of his small room, the straps anchored to metal hooks in the floor boards, and still, of the two of them, he seemed the one in control. "It was only the strongest of brick houses that I couldn't get into." His voice was soft and Annie tried not to listen from where she lay on his bed, but his lilting tone might as well have been a siren's song for all that she could ignore it. "Most women want to have their heart stolen. They keep 'em in houses of straw and sticks and I huff and I puff and I swallow their hearts whole." He paused and she fought the urge to look at him. "I could eat you up."

When all she did was turn the page of her magazine, Mitchell went on. "Your blood would've been so sweet. I can almost taste it. I can still smell it sometimes, your blood, where it'd soaked into the floor. I'd've been drunk on you for days. More's the pity Owen did you in like he did. Such a waste."

She was up and in front of him in a flash and her palm stung with an echo of pain when she slapped him across the face. The smile he gave her only stoked the fire his words had started and she laid into him with a vengeance.

"How dare you. How dare you talk to me like that. Least of all me." There were tears in her eyes and she hated that, but would not give him the satisfaction of backing down. "Would you have preferred to be the one to've killed me? Is that what you want? For me to hate you?" He flinched at that. "Because right now, all I feel is pity." She spat the word. "You've fought for so long not to be this man, and yet here you are. A wanker strapped to a chair."

She could see her friend swimming to the surface. Maybe it had been the thought of killing her, perhaps it had been the threat of her hate, whatever had triggered the change, Annie was relieved to see her Mitchell back now.

"I'm sorry." He was crying again. They both were. "I'm so sorry."

It was too much, the stress of the past few days. The wall in Annie broke and she found herself sinking to her knees and sobbing in front of him.

"How many," she demanded through her tears. "How many people was it Mitchell, because what I cleaned was more than just one."

His eyes were clenched shut when she looked up at him and he shook his head as he answered. "You'll know soon enough. You all will." He opened his eyes and the despair she saw there was enough to drown in. "Then you'll be glad to have me tied down. It'll be easier to drive a steak into me."

She recoiled at the thought and spoke her denial.

He only shook his head and another tear fell loose from his lashes. "You don't know."

She placed her hands on his knees and looked up into his face, the face of her friend. "Then tell me."

He shook his head again. "Please, Annie. I don't want you to hate me. I'd rather you kill me now than see me like that."

She looked at him, really looked at him and replayed the last few days in her head. In the time that Mitchell and George had moved into the house she had really only thought of them as human. Yes they had their moments, their quirks that set them apart from the rest of humanity, but it was only now, as she looked back that she could see what a mistake that had been. Her boys were not human, but they were still her boys.

"What if I make a promise." She wiped away the tear tracks on her cheeks and sniffled back the rest. "You talk, I listen, and then we discuss it. If I ask a question, you answer. You explain this to me as a vampire, and I try to understand." She was not sure if she would ever be able to look at him the same, but she would try. "Just, start from the beginning. As far back as you think you need to go."

And he did. He started with the war and Herrick and held nothing back. It was the first time he had been to confession since before he had been recruited and the relief that poured out with his words was almost tangible. She wondered how anyone could live for so long with such a weight on their soul, never once questioning if he had one or not.

She learned of Josie, and she slipped her fingers into his as he cried again. He talked of Lucy, and her betrayal, and of Daisy. When he had finished, who-knows how long later, Annie was not sure what to think. The betrayal that she felt for Mitchell at the hands of Lucy, the gravity of his grief at the loss of the Bristol vampires, and she thought again of her amazement at what he had accomplished only to have it burned away by someone else's fear, all of that fought with her horror over the innocent deaths on the train.

It was too much. She needed time to think, to sort out what she had learned. Without a word, she popped down to the entryway and had a moment of regret when she heard him calling for her. Perhaps she should have said where she was going, but in that moment, she could not look at him.

His shouting for her became pained, more desperate, and she was crying again when she left the house.

* * *

Annie had no set destination in mind. She roamed the streets of Totterdown without paying attention to where she was going. There was a moment when she considered going along with her original plan to go with George to the facility and leave the problems of the world to the living. But it was a passing thought, and she dismissed it quickly. She had not fulfilled her promise to Mitchell yet. They had not talked and she had not asked her questions.

She let her feet lead her up and down the streets, weaving her way through the city, all the while thinking about what she had learned. By the time that she found herself back in front of the pink house, she was ready to face Mitchell again.

It was quiet in the house, and Annie wondered if he might have gotten loose somehow. She made her way up the stairs on silent feet and poked her head around his door. He was still strapped to the chair, his head lolled forward and postured slumped. She wondered if he might have been sleeping.

Something gave her away, a movement or a noise, and then he was looking at her. He was angry, that much she could see. What she could not tell was who it was that she was looking at.

"You lied."

His voice was rough and scratchy and she felt a pang of guilt. How long had he been screaming for her?

"I just needed to think, to sort things out a bit." She entered the room, trying her best not to look afraid, and settled cross-legged on the bed.

He did not answer, only kept his unnerving stare trained on her.

She could see that she had lost her opportunity to talk to him. The man before her was closed off and she cursed herself for having run. "I'm sorry." She had not meant to apologize, but did not regret that she had. "It was too much. I had to get away."

He was still glaring when he finally did speak. "Why did you come back?"

She had no easy explanation because there was none, but she gave him what answer she could. "Because even when you were talking about killing all of those people, even when you said how much you loved it, you were hating yourself." He raised a brow at that. "I could see it. I still can."

She took a breath and moved to sit before him again. When she raised a hand to brush his hair behind his ear he flinched. "Because you don't think you deserve to be forgiven. Because I'm just now starting to see how hard it is for you day-by-day, but you still try." She finished by laying her hands on either side of his face. "Because you are my friend and I will always be here for you, if you want my help."

He met her eyes at that and she relaxed a measure to see her Mitchell staring at her. Something shifted in his gaze, something soft and warm, and he turned just the slightest to nuzzle into her hand.

It was the smallest of motions but it sent a flutter through Annie that was completely inappropriate for the conversation. Still, she let her thumbs caress his cheeks as she pulled her hands away.

* * *

Now that Mitchell was off the blood again, his body would require nourishment from alternative sources. Annie had made him his favorite dish for dinner and he tried to keep as much of his dignity as he could while she fed it to him one bite at a time. Bad-Mitchell had yet to surface again and for that Annie was grateful. They talked a bit more about mundane things, ordinary things, while both tried to ignore the fact that he was still strapped to a chair.

After awhile they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Annie watched as Mitchell began to nod off again. If he felt half as exhausted as he looked, she could imagine why. When she was certain that he was asleep she made her way down the stairs and out the door, Father Kemp's card in hand. She was not ready to leave yet, and Mitchell was nowhere near ready for her to go, but she had time enough to check in on George and Nina before he awoke.

It was easy to slip into the facility, the tricky part was finding George and Nina.

Annie passed down the corridors unseen, peeking every now and then through windows and open doors. She called out for her friends as she made her way, secure in the knowledge that they would be the only ones to hear her.

She found George having dinner in a small cafeteria and took pleasure in the surprise her presence caused. It took several strange looks from the staff and other patrons before the werewolf remembered that no one else could see Annie.

"What are you doing here?"

His question had more than one meaning and Annie did her best to answer both as she settled into the chair across from him.

"Well, the redecorating is finally under control, so I thought I'd pop round and see how this place is treating you." She cast an appraising eye around them and spoke in an unnecessary whisper. "Have they tried to probe you yet?"

"Annie," George was too loud and he caught himself before continuing in a forced undertone. "They're religious nuts, not aliens."

"Whatever." The ghost waved away his comment and continued her scrutiny of their surroundings.

The lights flickered and George groaned. "This place is doing my head in. All the medical tests, religious talk. Did you know, I'm not even allowed protein?"

The absurdity of his comment curled her lip. "You're kidding."

"No." He looked down into the mug in his hands. "No dairy or meat. Apparently they're worried it'll strengthen the demon."

That prompted a startled laugh from Annie. "Demon."

His head twitched in a tiny shake and his eyes pinched closed at the stupidity of the situation. "It's not funny."

She sobered quickly. "So then why are you here?"

Even avoiding her eyes, it took George several tries to get started. "Since I gave Nina- Since-" He cleared his throat. "Since Nina got the curse she's asked me for nothing, except this. So it doesn't really matter what I believe."

"You're gonna see it through." It was more of a statement than a question.

The lights flickered again around them.

He closed his eyes for a moment, "I will see you later," before preparing to stand.

"No. You won't."

Annie's quiet words stopped his motion and he settled back into his seat.

"What?"

She took a moment to choose her words before speaking. "If this cure works, you'll be human George. You won't be able to see me." He had no answer to that. At his silence she forced a smile and tried to keep her voice from sounding too watery. "So, say goodbye. Properly."

They both stood and circled around the table to meet in a hug. She was glad that he seemed not to care how he would look to outsiders. They both needed this, a sort of closure.

There were tears in both of their eyes when they pulled apart.

She could see the moment a thought popped into George's head. "Oh, I almost forgot. We found Mitchell's girlfriend."

The heartfelt moment was shattered by the ice that shot through her system. "What?"

George seemed not to notice her reaction, or perhaps had taken it as shock. "Lucy. Lucy Jaggat. She's the scientist here."

"Oh, this is bad." Annie pulled away to pace, shaking her hands in agitation. "We've got to find Nina." She stopped and gripped him by both shoulders. "We've got to get you out of here."

"Woah, woah." He was holding her by the arms now, trying to calm her down. "What's the matter?"

Clearly she had not made herself clear. Speaking in slow, short words Annie tried to clarify. "You are both in danger." But she only made it one sentence before her panic began to set in again. "Mitchell told me all about her. She only pretended to be interested in him to get close to him and then she set a trap and she killed all those people. She was the one who blew up the funeral parlour. She was the one who murdered all those vampires." She took a breath before nearly shouting, "She tried to kill Mitchell."

George's eyes had grown wider as she had spoken and now he looked to be at a proper level of panic. "We've got to find Nina."

* * *

The fastest way to search the building was to split up. George had been against the idea, but when Annie pointed out that no one else but Nina could even see her, he relented. There was also the matter that they did not know if there were any other werewolves being tested, and so both were on the lookout for more test subjects.

As Annie moved through the halls, calling for Nina, or anyone that could hear her, she would occasionally catch a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. When she would turn to look, there was never anyone there, but the idea still put her on edge. She moved through the compound faster.

The lights still flickered and the number of staff began to dwindle, but she was too focused on her search to notice. It was not until she entered the room with Father Kemp and Hennessey that she realized her mistake. Werewolves were not the only ones that could hear her.

"She's here, sir." The psychic could feel her presence, but could not see her. It was unnerving.

Then Father Kemp smiled and began to talk and she found herself reassessing her opinion of what it was to be truly unnerved.

* * *

George had found Nina, and then the flaw in his and Annie's plan. They had not thought to set a time or place to meet back up. As the two werewolves ran through the compound, he spotted a room filled with screens. Skidding to a halt, he backtracked to find the security station unmanned.

It was a moment later that Nina joined him and they scanned the monitors together.

They saw no signs of other werewolves, though what they did find was more terrifying. The bloody remains of more than one person was on display for anyone to see. As the screens cycled through the different cameras, they counted the translucent outline of five different ghosts. Annie, and four that were dressed in the standard gown of a patient.

"Oh my god, that's Tully." George could not believe his eyes. Not only was the man who had turned him dead, but his ghost was haunting the building they were in. Four ghosts were haunting the building. Four people, four werewolves had died here, and they were out for blood. The realization renewed his urgency.

"Come on." he reached for Nina's hand, intent of finding Annie and getting them all out of there.

"George." Nina pulled him up short, her eyes still fixed to the screen. "Something's happening."

He returned his attention to the screen, watching transfixed as Kemp killed a man, as a door appeared where no door should be. He cried out as Annie fought not to be sucked into the abyss of the other side. But there was nothing that either of them could do.

* * *

Mitchell sat, still strapped to the chair that was bolted to the floor. From one second to the next he was asleep and then in agony. If he could not see that his insides were still intact he would have believed them to have been torn out. Annie flashed through his mind, screaming for help, clawing at the ground as she was dragged from the world. His throat had healed from his earlier shouting, but now he shredded his vocal cords with her name. He fought at the restraints that held him, rubbing his wrists past raw. He knew that it was too late, that she was already gone, and yet he still fought to break free, to do something, anything, that would bring her back.

When George and Nina found him, he was still bound. Pools of his own blood puddled under each arm and his face was smeared with red. There were teeth marks in his skin around the wrist cuffs where he had tried to break free.

"She's gone." his voice was flat and empty. There was nothing left in him, it had all been taken away with Annie.

Nina stayed in the doorway to his room, not daring to venture further, but George knelt in front of Mitchell, unknowingly taking the place that Annie had been in not so long ago.

He laid one hand over the blood drenched binding of Mitchell's wrist. "We have to go. They know where we live and we have to go now." Slowly, he began to undo the cuff. "I'm going to let you out and you're going to come with us." He paused before freeing the first hand and waited until Mitchell had met his stare. "Annie said that you were under control now. I can trust that, yeah?"

Mitchell's hands fisted at the mention of her name, but he nodded his consent. George finished with the first cuff and moved to the other. When both were free he helped Mitchell to stand for the first time in days. There was a bit of a wobble at first, but they steadied and Mitchell's face hardened into an unforgiving mask.

"The address." He did not need to clarify. He did not truly need George to answer. He had been a hunter now for near on a century, he could find the ones responsible, of that he had no doubt.

"Mitchell, no." George moved to block the door, as if that would be enough to stop the man.

"They killed her, George." His voice had started quiet, but grew in volume as he continued. "They took her away from us."

George did his best to stay calm, perhaps hoping that would be enough to dissolve the tension in the room. "She wouldn't want this. You know she wouldn't."

Mitchell screwed his eyes shut, pressing on them with the palms of his hands. It was too much, it was all too much too soon after coming down from the blood. He shouted out his pain and frustration, bringing down his hands in fists and shaking with rage. "They killed her."

Still keeping a reasonable tone, George stood his ground. "And this is how you're going to honour her? If you want to kill, if you want to rip away every last shred of humanity, then fine." his voice was a quiet hiss. "But don't you dare do it in Annie's name."

He was right and that ate at Mitchell all the more. He could imagine her in George's place, saying the same thing.

"They're the monsters," George finally moved from the doorway to stand in front of Mitchell, "not us."

How he decided to proceed had the feel of a test to it. Did he strike out for vengeance, or submit to George's request. His road to redemption, that was what Annie had called it. He thought of her, and his decision was made.

"We lost her."

They both moved to embrace the other and Mitchell remembered that he was not the only one to have lost Annie.

"I know," George's voice was muffled by Mitchell's shoulder, "but we still have each other."

* * *

This is the end, for now. I may revisit this later to continue with Series 3, but I have GOT to finish my Hobbit fic(s) first. I just do.


End file.
